Chapter Text
“Sorry, um, I guess there’s more pressure now that you belong to me… and you’re not at the brothel anymore…”
“I’m happy to belong to you, Mistress.” Looking at his body, it bothered her to see that she could still see the bruises on it, even though he belonged to her now.
“There won’t be much to do… it won’t be like working 24/7…”
“I understand. I’m to be available when you need me.”
The way he phrased things really bothered her.
He seemed like he was about to drop dead from terror when he admitted to her that he didn’t know how to cook. Well, he knew some basics, but he hadn’t received a high degree of training in it. It hadn’t been necessary at the brothel. Clearly, he thought that now that he was a personal slave, this was a huge failing.
“Hey… Jake. Jake. Calm down. It’s okay.”
“It’s okay that you don’t know how to cook,” she continued.
He was hanging on her every word. “I… I can learn… if you train me… I’m sorry… I should already know…” He seemed like he was about to burst into tears from the stress.
“There’s no rush, Jake. Hey, I’ve been feeding myself fine for ages now, alright? I can cook for the both of us. If you want to learn, I’m happy to teach you, but if you don’t want to, that’s alright too.”
“I do want to learn! I want to be useful, I promise.”
“Okay. But don’t worry about it for tonight. I’m just going to whip something up quickly.”
He marinated in his shame as his mistress cooked a meal for the two of them. She dished it into plates and brought it to the table.
He stared. “I… I can’t eat food like this…”
“Why? Do you have an allergy?”
“This… this is not food for slaves, Mistress. I am not allowed to have food like this.”
“Well, I don’t have anything else for you to eat.”
“I’m not hungry! I don’t need to eat.”
She took a deep breath, and counted down from 10 inside her head. She wasn’t a psychologist. She didn’t know what to say here.
Finally, she said, “Jake, I spent time preparing this food for you. Do you think you could eat it for me?”
He looked terrified. “Have I been good, Mistress?”
She wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything, but, “Sure.”
He bowed so low that his head touched the floor. “Thank you for the food, Mistress. I will do everything I can to repay your kindness.”
“Sounds good, Jake. Will you eat now?”
“If that is your wish, Mistress.”
“It is.”
But there was no way she could convince him to join her at the table, so she ended up giving him the plate on the floor (he wouldn’t even use the utensils, only using his mouth like an animal, though somehow he brought a touch of elegance to his degradation).
When she looked back down, he had eaten every bit of food on his plate. “Very good, Jake,” she praised him.
“Thank you. Thank you for your kindness to this unworthy one, Mistress.”
She made to clean the plates, but he seemed like he was on the verge of a meltdown again. “Please, allow me to, Mistress.”
So she watched awkwardly as he cleaned the plates. It really didn’t sit well with her. On this day, she was supposed to be welcoming him into her home, it was the least she could do as a hostess to do the dishes. But she had no choice.
After he finished the dishes, he seemed to be in a huge hurry. “Mistress… may I be permitted to take a shower and to clean myself up?”
“Yes, Jake.”
Since it was a trying day, Sophia thought she would turn in early herself. Given everything she had seen of him so far, she expected that he would be done with washing himself up quickly, so as not to cause an inconvenience.
It actually annoyed her a bit when more than 30 minutes passed.
Finally, though she had decided not to rush him, she decided to head upstairs. When she opened the door to the bedroom, she understood what had happened.
Jake wasn’t wearing his normal clothes, but he was wearing one of his “presentation” outfits from the brothel, silk garments that showed more than they concealed.
Besides that, “cleaning up” was obviously a poor moniker for what he had done. He had on a flowery scent - actually, multiple flowery scents (Sophia was no expert on perfume but she thought she could sense that).
When she opened the door, he locked his hands behind him and raised his head so that she could see his face. She actually could appreciate the amount of artistry that he put into his makeup, though she thought that Jake was beautiful anyway.
“Mistress, does it please you to select me?”
It was the same question he had asked at the brothel. But it made her feel awkward in this situation.
She walked to him, tipped his chin up, and delicately kissed his lips. “Jake, you’re beautiful.”
Something swam in his eyes, real emotion, not just fear.
“Um… let me go wash up.”
She went and took a shower.
He was still waiting for her, having done nothing but turn towards her.
Her perfect… prize. He waited for her breathlessly.
It wasn’t like they hadn’t had sex already. They’d had sex at the brothel. And it’d been a good time. Sophia could compartmentalize in different situations, behave in a way that fit the situation.
But now he was her slave, not a brothel prostitute.
In her mind, that meant that he deserved more consideration, though from the way he was acting, it seemed like he thought it meant that he was someone that she could abuse with more complete control and authority.
It was like he wanted her to… eat him. Devour him. That seemed pretty accurate.
He was waiting for her to show him what it meant to be hers.
She went to him, not allowing her conflicting emotions to show in her face. “Undress me,” she said.
With trembling hands, he did as she asked, undoing the clasp of her dress, worshipfully pulling it down to reveal her bare body.
The worst thing about it was… she was not aroused. He was too damn scared.
To distract herself, she took his clothes off, gently.
She pulled him to his feet in front of her, and captured his face, kissing him. A bit of their chemistry from the brothel seemed to return. The eager way he responded to her returned a little of her arousal to her. She languidly thrust her tongue into his mouth, felt him respond, not pushing, but welcoming, making every part of himself available but not completely passive.
He lowered himself to his knees slowly. He nudged her legs apart, and began to suckle at her core like a hummingbird at a flower. The taste of her was exquisite to him. She settled her hands in his hair, beginning to guide him. He made his tongue stiff and probed it into her vagina. He could make her come sooner, or later, but this time he selfishly made it last longer. It felt so right, to be on his knees, given the privilege to worship her how he truly wanted to. She didn’t rush him, but since the client’s pleasure was most important, he brought her to orgasm. This reminded him of his early days - when he was satisfying clients because he wanted to - before he had accumulated debts.
“Mm, you seem really into this,” she said.
“It’s always a pleasure to please you, Mistress,” he said.
She hesitated, not making a move, so he took the lead.
“Would you like to move over to the bed, Mistress?”
She followed his guidance, spreading herself out over her own sheets. Jake felt nervous, this was one of the most dangerous positions that he could be in, but he told himself that he wanted to prove himself. “Please let me know if anything is not to your liking, Mistress.” Then he positioned himself over her, not really aggressive, more sensual. He had done this at the brothel. He lowered himself, already knowing some of the spots that she liked. There was no rush of a booking slot this time. He could take his time, making her feel as special as she deserved. He hoped, if nothing else came across, his sincerity did.
He moved down, putting his mouth on her again.
“Jake,” she growled. “I want you in me.”
Obeying her command, and also grateful for the show of trust, he filled her up. This way, he was more able to hit the spot that she liked. Also, it wasn’t flattery to himself when he thought that he could better guide the cadence of their dance for her pleasure than she could. He knew she seemed to have a more complete and fulfilling experience when she was on the bottom, and he hoped she would allow herself to have it more often.
Sophia wasn’t very vocal - in the heights of pleasure she nearly fell silent - but he thought he could tell. In the end, there was a limit to how satisfying pleasure could be, like there was a limit to how beautiful music could be, or how delicious food. Still, he tried to give her a pleasurable experience, and something a little different each time.
Her face as she orgasmed, seeing the pleasure he had created for her, that was the real climax for him.
He didn’t have the presence of mind to pre-prepare for her interrogation that he was still hard.
He decided to just give an honest answer. “I didn’t want it to be about me, I wanted it to be about you.”
She was in too sleepy-satisfied a state to push. “You’re so thoughtful, Jake.”
He laid by her side in bed, wondering when she would decide that his use was done.
She played with his hair, and inhaled the scent of his neck. “I don’t like those fucking bruises,” she muttered.
“I’m sorry to be marked,” he said, with a sense of shame. “Next week… the only bruises on me will be yours,” he said, hoping that that would satisfy her.
“I’m glad you’re mine now.”
“I’m glad, too.”
She sighed a little sleepily. “I’m pretty tired.”
He started to get out of bed.
“Where are you going?”
“To - to sleep on the floor, Mistress.”
“Sleep here.” She sighed. She hadn’t planned to have sex with him, but sleeping with him was appealing.
His eyes were wide as he took a position a hesitant distance from her.
She pulled him into her arms.
“Did - did I do a good job then, Mistress?”
She sighed. “Of course you did a good job, Jake. You’re a good boy, and I’m happy with you.”
He hesitantly allowed himself to believe her words. His first night, and he had pleased his Mistress. “Um, I know I took the lead this time - but I can take a lot more - of whatever you want - if you want to -”
“Maybe another time.”
Normally he would never allow himself to say this, but he allowed himself to say it this time. “That felt good, Mistress,” he whispered.
“Good.”
“Thank you so much for buying me. I want to please you.”
“Good boy.” She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “I want you to be happy, alright, Jake?”
He started crying, overwhelmed by what he felt he didn’t deserve and thought he’d never have. “Mistress is too kind,” he managed.
If I were kind, I would find a way for you to be free, she thought. Instead, she said, “You’re mine” - and you’re never leaving me - “and” - whatever it takes - “I’ll take care of you.”